


The Intern

by bookworm1848



Category: EXO (Band), Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8637634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm1848/pseuds/bookworm1848
Summary: Byun Baekhyun didn't always make the best choices. Joining a crew of malicious Death Eaters for Chudley Cannon tickets and a free butterbeer definitely topped the list.This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.





	

**Ministry of Magic, Busan, South Korea, 2012**

* * *

“Hello. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”  
“Park Chanyeol.” The tall, dark-haired man in the dusty gray suit straightened his collar. “Noble employee of the Department of Magic Accidents and Catastrophes present to witness the disciplinary hearing of Kim Minseok in Courtroom 10.”  
“Thank you. Please take one of our badges and pin it to the front of your robes.”  
One small golden badge slid from a silver chute that would normally distribute coins and Chanyeol quickly pasted it to the front of his robes.  
“Please insert your wand for keen security purposes. It will be taken to the Atrium for further inspection.”  
Chanyeol huffed, gruffly digging his wand free from the confines of his pocket before briskly setting it down upon the chute. There was a short moment of silence as Chanyeol’s wand disappeared, streaming through the canal with a low rumbling noise as it set off to the Security Desk. A hoarse voice drifted through, deep and rich.  
“Alright, les’ see wha’ ‘ee goit’ ‘ere.”  
The wand weigher had a heavy dialect that was almost incomprehensible.  
“Un’corn ‘air, rose’ood. Hm…firm ‘ood we goit’ ‘ere. A’ight.”  
The rumbling sound returned as the wand sheepishly rolled back through the chute and into Chanyeol’s open hand. He stuffed it into his pocket as the floor rumbled beneath him; before his eyes the scarlet telephone booth began sinking beneath the earth. He was cowered by darkness as the booth sunk lower and lower, the pavement of the road sleeking past the windows. He slowly shut his eyes just as the rumbling ceased and dazzling gold light tinged his eyelashes. He blinked and suddenly—  
“The Ministry wishes you a pleasant evening.”  
He was standing before the visitor’s entrance of the Ministry of Magic, a vast and busy lobby area with a floor of polished wood that seemed to stretch for miles. Wizards in long, tattered robes materialized from the spitting green flames of the fireplaces driven deep into the walls, their hats askew and their bleak morning-faces powdered with soot and dirt. Wizards that were more elegantly dressed crossed the floor in a much more swift and dignified stride, solemnity locked on their faces. Very few even spared Chanyeol a glance; many were trying to hurry to their offices. Eyes gleaming with purpose, Chanyeol began to follow a very porky wizard with thinning black hair to a set of golden-grilled lifts. He quickly strode through the swiftly opening doors and positioned himself at the back. Two wizards with torn and ashy robes entered after him and another wizard dressed in a double-breasted suit with messy amber-colored hair quickly ran forth, a shabby briefcase at his side. His eyes indifferently flickered towards Chanyeol as he went to stand in front of him and several slow seconds passed before he quickly spun around, his face shining.  
“Chanyeol?”  
A small smile crossed Chanyeol’s face as the lift doors closed with a small thud. “Jongdae.” The elevator gave a small shake as it began to start up and move. “Thought you didn’t recognize me for a moment.”  
The amber haired man named Jongdae heaved a great sigh. “Almost didn’t. So worried about that Death Eater, I can barely think.”  
“Can’t believe he’s on trial again,” Chanyeol faked an exasperated tone.  
“I know!” said Jongdae, heavily. “I mean, he should’ve been sent deep into Azkaban by now! Oh, I hope he gets what he deserves!”  
Unbeknownst to Jongdae, a sly smirk had begun to adorn Chanyeol’s drowsy features. “I do too.”  
Jongdae tottered back and forth on his heels for a moment, briefcase tucked tightly to his stomach. “Joonmyeon’s been unable to stop talking about this lately.”  
Chanyeol hitched an eyebrow. “Joonmyeon?”  
Jongdae turned to glance at him with surprise. “I’ve never mentioned him?”  
Chanyeol shook his head.  
“Ah…” Jongdae sighed. “He’s…ah…another fling…”  
Chanyeol sniggered as Jongdae’s face began to redden.  
“What? I-It’s not like it’s the first time.”  
“That’s the funny thing,” Chanyeol chortled, “it’s not.”  
Jongdae’s heated retort was suddenly cut off by a—  
“Department of Mysteries,” a honey-like female voice crooned through the speaker overhead. The lift doors panged open at that moment and those inside purposefully ambled out as others rushed inside and replaced them.  
Chanyeol followed Jongdae down a dark, narrow corridor as the grilles on the lift behind them loudly shut closed. It was all silent except for the soft smacking of their shoes against the neatly polished floor.  
“I haven’t been down here in a while,” Jongdae whispered. “Courtroom ten?”  
“That’s the one.” Chanyeol listlessly gestured forward with his head. Jongdae sharply turned the corner and they trundled heavily down a set of dark, stone steps flooded with the light of blazing torches. Chanyeol heard trudging footsteps behind him as they stopped beside a door made of splintered dark wood with an enormous lock of iron.  
“Here we are,” Jongdae propped his hand upon the handle and turned his head to Chanyeol. “We ready?”  
His nod of agreement was ignored as Jongdae’s eyes suddenly flittered to the figure hovering over his head. “Mr. Oh. Pleasure to see you here!”  
Chanyeol turned to see a tall man in a double-breasted suit seamlessly gliding down the stairs, his briefcase neatly tucked to his thigh and his greasy blonde hair effortlessly combed back.  
“Mr. Kim,” he was obviously taking to Jongdae, but his eyes were locked on Chanyeol, “what a pleasure, I must say as well.”  
“Come on in,” Jongdae gently thrust open the door and took a careful step inside. Chanyeol grabbed the door as if to follow him in, but Sehun planted a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving; before he could even blink twice, his hand slapped against the doorknob and he violently drew it forward so it sharply closed with a bang.  
Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, obviously puzzled. “What?”  
A small smile grew on Sehun’s face and his eyes slowly shrugged upwards. “Nothing.”  
Chanyeol’s next words were drowned deep in the pit of his throat as Sehun’s fingers sharply wrapped around his nape and tugged him hard against him. Their noses brushing, he watched between hooded eyelids as Sehun slowly eased their mouths together. Awkwardly shuffling his hands against his knees, he felt as his whole body went rigid with shock. Sehun’s hands ran up his back, stroking slow circles on the clad skin and that seemed to be what slowly lulled him out of his daze and into reality. It had only been a few days since he’d last felt Sehun’s lips against his own and yet his touch still gave him that sharp giddy feeling like a schoolgirl holding hands with her crush.  
Sehun slowly drew his head back, harsh breaths blowing into Chanyeol’s face as he rested his forehead against his. Chanyeol felt his face flush from the intense heat radiating from Sehun’s body, capturing his own like a misty, infectious cloud of lust.  
“I missed you.” Sehun pressed a chaste kiss against Chanyeol’s temple.  
Chanyeol barely let a smile etch his features. “I was only gone for two days.”  
Sehun ran another hand up Chanyeol’s spine, tickling his nerves. “That’s two days without your touch. You know what that does to me.”  
Chanyeol let his smile grow a bit wider to his chagrin, but nonetheless tugged Sehun’s hand from his hip. “We have the hearing, remember? He won’t be happy if the mission’s not completed correctly.”  
Sehun’s face suddenly grew grave. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”  
“I don’t want to be involved in a second,” Chanyeol said, firmly. “Come on. We’re the last ones, actually. Parker, Skullbone, Jongin and Kris have already made it in and they’re usually the late ones.”  
Sehun huffed, but crossly slug his hand towards the doorknob and wearily gave it a small turn. A large dungeon of black stone materialized before their eyes; on separate sides of the room sat somber figures in purple cloaks, their cold faces barely lit by the torches suspended above their heads. Sehun and Chanyeol awkwardly shuffled past the high benches rising on either side of them, wary of the thick tension in the air. In the center of the room, wrists firmly bound to the arms of a dark stone chair with metal chains was a short man with golden windswept hair, his locks sticking straight up to the ceiling. He fixed Chanyeol with a gruesome death stare and it wasn’t until Sehun firmly grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a bench of twelve men did he stop. He glanced around at who he was sitting by. Jongdae was perched right next to him, anxiously leaning back and forth in his seat. Beside him was a tall wizard with tousled brown hair and sitting next to him, his back knocked in a sturdy posture was a shorter wizard with black hair, taciturn eyes and very full lips. Hovering over him, his chin barely scraping the shadow of the crown of the other man’s head was a lanky wizard with ruffled blonde hair and shiny brown eyes.  
He recognized them all immediately as Jongin, Kyungsoo and Kris, his fellow comrades.  
A guard locked the door of the courtroom with a small click and as if on cue, the judge in the center of the room cleared his throat and the hearing commenced.  
“Disciplinary hearing of the nineteenth of September,” Chanyeol swallowed deeply as the sounds of quills scratching against coarse parchment sounded around the room. Sehun, noticing his uneasiness, reached for his hand and Chanyeol felt the drum in his heartbeat begin to slow.  
The tension in the room did not at all thin as the judge’s voice rang out once more. “Into offenses committed by Kim Minseok, resident of the ShinShin Hotel, Seoul, South Korea. We reviewed the interrogators last week in a separate hearing and we were unable to allocate your reasonable punishment at that time.” The judge retracted a leaf of parchment from beneath a dusty folder upon his desk. “All has been decided.”  
Chanyeol keenly spotted a subtle smirk grow on Minseok’s face. His eyes seemed to be glowing maliciously beneath the golden torchlight.  
“Before we get to that, however,” the judge said, loudly, “I want to review what the interrogators said last hearing.” He gave an awkward jerk of the head towards a group of motionless people on the bottom row of the bleachers next to him. They snapped upwards as if gotten pinched by an invisible force and next moment, the room filled with the sound of quills eagerly scratching against parchment.  
“Im Myungsoo, a 29-year old wizard currently spending time in London at the moment, told us last week that he spotted you, dressed in a long, flowing trench coat at the time, crossing the ninth level towards the Department of Mysteries. He said when a friend of his asked of your business, you drew your wand. He remarked if he hadn’t told you to put it away, a fight may have occurred. I presume you remember this conversation.”  
Minseok nodded his head, but said nothing.  
“The reasons of your lurking through the Department of Mysteries is still unknown,” the judge drawled uneasily. “Even one of the guards who arrested you said he got nothing. Would you like to reveal that now?”  
Minseok shook his head, feigning disinterest.  
The judge sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Here in front of me I have a list of the prophecies contained in the Department of Mysteries. My main guard, Waldenburg”—he nodded towards a burly, troll-looking figure by the door—“marked a star next to the ones he thought might interest you.”  
Minseok’s eyes glowed strongly with voraciousness, his tongue flitting out to sharply lash at his lips. Kris fixed him a solid look of warning and he immediately stopped, sinking deep into the chair in attempt to hide his hunger.  
“I hope we get through this alive,” Sehun’s voice drifted into Chanyeol’s ear. “He won’t be happy if this doesn’t go well.”  
“I just want this chap to get on with it,” Chanyeol harshly muttered.  
“One particular prophecy,” the judge’s voice resounded, “I think will spark great interest in the both of us. See, it’s one made ages ago but depicts the return of a great Dark Lord to power who promises wealth and mirth to his followers. Does this interest you in any way?”  
Minseok shook his head, gripping tightly at the stone chair.  
“No?” The judge craned his head as if to get a proper gaze at Minseok. “I guess, we’ll get straight to the sentences to be served then.”  
Chanyeol felt Jongin and Kyungsoo shift purposefully on the benches beside him.  
“For offenses committed under the Auror Office and Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, I hereby sentence you, Kim Minseok, to four years in Azkaban for theft and merciless treachery—”  
A strong rattle shook the benches as a loud bang deafened all; a sudden yellow stream of light struck one of the Wizengamot in the face. The wizard hissed painfully, grabbing at his skull and everyone turned in the direction of the chaos. Chanyeol, Sehun, Jongin and seven others had leapt from the stands and Kyungsoo and Kris had readily left their seats and snaked along the stone walls, wands aloft as they screened the area. The Wizengamot bounced to their feet all at once, causing the benches to give an unsteady lurch, and there was a rumble as three stout guards quickly slithered down from the top of the benches. Jongdae gave a weary glance at Chanyeol, obviously confused.  
“Mate, what are you doing?”  
“Shut up!” Chanyeol thrust his wand in Jongdae’s face; he recoiled with fright, falling backwards on the bench with a hand grabbling his chest. Jongin nudged his head upwards with the tip of his wand and he gasped, bending into a crouch with his knees folded to his chest.  
A jet of auburn light streamed from the end of Kyungsoo’s wand and struck one of the guards in the chest. The guard veered drunkenly on his heels, pressing a fat palm against his chest. Two other bolts of light, shiny and orange, sparked the air; one clashed into the guard’s jaw and the other streaked over his head and hit another in the forehead; he fell over in a hunch over his dead counterpart, foam streaming from his open mouth.  
There was a loud, battle cry-like yell as the third guard came rushing towards Kris, fists clenched and teeth bared. Kris drew back his arm and once the guard completely closed in, he sank his wand into his neck, watching as he bent his head and evaded consciousness. Kyungsoo limply turned his body over with his shoe as a hex barely missed his ear.  
The judge was standing upright on his desk, his little body wobbling timidly as he strut out his wand. His aim switched from Jongin to Sehun to Chanyeol to Kris.  
“You foul traitors of wizard, stay ‘way from me!” he gasped, his whole body trembling. “W-Warning you now, stay ‘way!”  
Sehun, smirking, ripped out his wand, yielding it like a gun towards the tiny judge. With a quick flicker, he bellowed, “Expelliarmus!”  
The judge bowled over as a yellow beam of light barely missed his hat.  
“We are not traitors of wizard!” Kyungsoo bellowed. “We are Death Eaters—minions of the Dark Lord.”  
Jongdae gave a horrible gasp and shuddered relentlessly. When Sehun gave him a fierce kick, he gave a deafening scream and hugged his body for mercy.  
The judge on the desk gave a quick start as he drew himself back to full height; his wand’s aim found the three Death Eaters rooted on the benches and he gave a fierce yell.  
“Impedimenta!”  
A purple spurt of light jetted from his wand and shot right in between Sehun and Chanyeol; Sehun dodged in just in time, but Jongdae, still sobbing and rocking in the corner, nudged into Chanyeol and pushed him right into harm’s way—  
CLASH!  
He fell straight to the floor, blinded by burning violet, and his head roughly clashed with one of the seats; bright spurts of white sprung before his eyes as the throng of purple began to fade.  
He was suddenly thrust upward into a sitting position and the back of his head was resting carefully in a warm hand. He glanced up, a little too quickly as he felt his head spin, to see Sehun, his eyes darting feverishly over his woozy figure, his hand tenderly supporting his head.  
“You alright?”  
Chanyeol quickly nodded, bouncing up to his feet. War and battle raged around them; the Wizengamot were heatedly fighting Jongin, Kyungsoo and Kris and spells and hexes were flying all across the court. Chanyeol quickly sprang back into action, ripping out his wand and starting to the lowest of the benches. Sehun anxiously followed suit, protectively tailing behind him.  
“Crucio!” A red bolt of light shot from the wand of a short, plump witch of the Wizengamot, her purple robes billowing from the force of her spell. Chanyeol ducked, dragging Sehun along with him as the hex exploded against the stone behind them.  
“Go, go, go!” Sehun hissed in his ear, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him along the benches. “Let me kill that witch!”  
They raced to the other side where Jongin was heatedly fighting a crowd of Wizengamot pouring from the stands. The judge was alongside them, but he was turned, engaging in a brutal tussle of his own with Kris. Kyungsoo was by Minseok, his wand pressed against his chains, muttering incoherent spells to himself. The chains began to glow a vicious gold and tiny flames hissed and sputtered beneath Kyungsoo’s wand.  
“He’s trying to escape!” one of the men of the Wizengamot yelled.  
Half of them turned as their sights sought for Kyungsoo, wands still aloft. One of the witches made for him, but Kyungsoo raised his wand from Minseok’s manacles: sputtering flames of fire were eagerly licking the tip.  
“Surround him—he’s armed!”  
A flock of the Wizengamot left the herd, eagerly bounding for Kyungsoo. The short man seemed unfazed, merely spreading the fire all along Minseok’s chains, but as they started to close in, his face burned with worry.  
“Expelliarmus!” A small spark of yellow jetted from one of the wizard’s wands and Kyungsoo slid to the right, missing it by a few inches. Another witch did the same and this time Kyungsoo was barely lucky; the spell brushed right through his hair. Three of the Death Eaters who were joined with Chanyeol, Sehun and Jongin quickly left to help Kyungsoo, who was wincing against the sparks hitting his suit.  
“Chanyeol! Sehun! Help!” came a cry from Jongin. The Wizengamot were successfully gaining up on him. Even from afar, they could tell he was starting to lose strength.  
Chanyeol sprinted down from the last few benches, his cheeks burning against the raging spells soaring over their heads. “Impedimenta!”  
Six sparks shot from his wand; they struck four wizards in the chest and socked two witches in the face. Those hit fell to the ground and the rest of the wizards surrounding Jongin turned on Chanyeol and Sehun; Sehun knocked most of them out with a few quick spells of reflex.  
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!”  
A sea of red sparks shot over their heads, spraying freely from the wand of the judge who was standing in the middle of the court. One of them hit Jongin in the shoulder, but he only gave a weak veer before quickly returning to battle. The judge gave an impudent laugh as he made to raise his wand again.  
Sehun was quick; he rose his wand and pointed it at the judge, eyes flamed with hate. “Confringo!”  
A wide beam of blue light shot from his wand and the judge was lucky he was so quick; the spell clashed into the stone behind him and a series of small cracks adorned the surface. He gave a tiny little jump of fright as he made to scamper to the door, his wand stretched above his small head.  
“Oh no you don’t!” Sehun shot a red bolt of light at the scurrying judge. “You’ll learn not to mess with my boyfriend!”  
The judge’s body was only halfway through the door as the spell came in contact with his back; he tripped forward and hit the ground with a loud crash. Blood welled from his head and neck like a pimple wetly oozing with puss.  
“Stop right there!”  
A crowd of guards in gray robes were joined in the doorway, their wands brandished and held aloft, their cold faces melding into the stone behind them.  
“As guards of the Ministry of Magic, joined with the Wizengamot, the silent peoples of choice, we have the right to hex and detain you with all our might. Leave now and face imprisonment for murder or hang back and face the wild ripples of death.”  
Chanyeol tensed; he knew the last thing Voldemort wanted was for his Death Eaters to make the news, yet at the same time they still had to fulfill the mission and save Minseok.  
“Avada Kedavra!”  
A green jet of light left Jongin’s wand and struck one of the guards in the temple. He fell to the ground in a heap, dragging another guard down along with him. The battles quickly started up again and the Wizengamot raced left and right, spells and curses heatedly flying from their wands. The guards all automatically stomped into the room with purpose, their gray eyes locked on the Death Eaters.  
“Crucio!” A ribbon of red jetted from Sehun’s wand and one of the guards suffered a strong blow to the face. Nonetheless, they kept marching in unison, getting closer and closer.  
“Damn, they’re fast,” Chanyeol grunted, watching as a small crowd of Wizengamot fell dead from the series of auburn sparks shooting from his wand. “We’re not gonna make it. Loundrel, Parker and Skullbone are all dead. That’s a fourth of the team.”  
“We have to work through them!” Sehun leaped from one of the final benches.  
A pack of guards heaved towards him all at once, but Sehun was quick. He struck four of them down with just one flicker of his wand and he took care of two others with a few quick tricks with his elbow. Chanyeol breathed with relief, just watching him fight through the crowd so fast. He really did have a great boyfriend.  
“I’ve got him!”  
He quickly snapped his head to where Kyungsoo was standing; Minseok was free from the confines of the manacles and the stone chair he’d been sitting in had been wrecked to a flat slab of stone. The rescued prisoner-to-be was fighting fiercely beside Kyungsoo and three other Death Eaters, spells zapping to and fro from his wand.  
“There you go, pretty! Some Crucio for you—and you—and you!”  
The Wizengamot and the guards began to thin down to small specks of purple and gray. Kris and Jongin were working fiercely through them all, hexing them lifeless left and right. Sehun was hidden in the large flaps of gray robes of the guards, but he was still doing well; they were falling back faster than they were rushing forward.  
Then there was a sudden whistling noise from the door. Chanyeol craned his neck to curiously peer over the whirring shapes of gray and purple. An arrow soared through the open doorway, long and thick with a glistening, sharp tip. He swerved to the left and it missed him by a few feet, smacking against the wall. Three more launched in simultaneously and one of them hit one of the guards in the foot.  
The crowd in the center of the room began to grow; more guards materialized everywhere, except they hadn’t run in and they hadn’t Apparated. The arrows kept shooting in and landing in the middle of the gray horde and before Chanyeol’s eyes, the mob expanded and thickened out. The flickering light of Sehun’s wand in the middle of the crowd began to diminish and that’s when Chanyeol realized he was in trouble.  
He charged forward off the benches and stormed across the court. He reached the first few guards he could find and started hexing them off as quickly and as accurately as he could. The first few fell and quaked to their knees with death, but eventually, they all started turning and multiplying and before long, Chanyeol was facing more than he could handle. Brawny fingers wrapped around his throat and giant feet stamped on his legs. He flicked his wand up and down, casting as many spells as he could shout, but suddenly the gray figures began to close in and the air started to become thick and his eyes began to blur. He could tell he was losing it, but he had to make it through. For the Dark Mark, for the Dark Lord, for Sehun…  
“Urrgghh!”  
A large force paved through the crowd, splitting them all like an invisible bulldozer. Chanyeol was grabbed and released from the guard’s grip and suddenly fresh air met his nose and he realized that fresh blood was welling thickly from it. His back hit the benches and his legs knocked against wood and then his face was snapped upwards and his body was pushed back and Oh Sehun’s face was looming right over him.  
“We have to clear them out and keep fighting, okay? Are you in good enough condition to do that?”  
Chanyeol wasn’t able to answer for a moment because he was too busy staring. Sehun’s face looked horrible; his left eye was purple and the eyelids were swelling, there were dried traces of blood on his nose, there was a line-shaped gash on his cheek, and his lips were horribly cut and bleeding.  
“Y-You’re hurt,” Chanyeol muttered, shakily. “I should fight for you.”  
“Oh, no you shouldn’t,” Sehun said, and even through the pain he forced a bitter smile. “I can do that.”  
“Sehun—”  
“No, it’s alright. Now, get up, we don’t have time. We’re getting attacked as we speak.”  
Chanyeol saw he was right. They were in cover at the moment, but it definitely wasn’t very protective.  
“Alright,” he nodded, numbly, feeling with his hand at the tiny ropes of blood leaving his nostrils. “Let’s go.”  
Sehun bounced up from the benches and offered Chanyeol a hand. He took it and heaved back to his feet. They trotted down the last bench and leaped to the ground. The guards immediately turned on them, but both Chanyeol and Sehun were ready. Two ribbons of light left both of their wands and hit two guards squarely in the chest; they knocked down a few others and Minseok and Kyungsoo started to thin out the left side. Jongin was on the higher benches, attacking them from a top angle and Kris was by the door, fending off the few that were trying to run in.  
Chanyeol felt electrified; he was whizzing through the crowd left and right, flicking his wand to and fro, watching them all fall dead at his feet. He thought of how well Sehun would praise him to the Dark Lord when they returned and how for once, Minseok might actually show him approval for doing a good job like he always did.  
Feeling confident all of a sudden, he dashed back up the benches and climbed to the third to highest one, his wand aloft and at the ready. He watched as the guards fell and crashed to their death and he smirked with triumph.  
And that was the moment when everything went wrong.  
Maybe it was his uncontrollable confidence and glee in that moment where everything was victoriously crashing to his feet. Or maybe it was the pride in his heart that told him Sehun was actually glad to be with him in that moment—Sehun who was such a great and boundless wizard.  
Either way, things had gone wrong and it had been all his fault.  
He’d risen his wand, ready to strike at least seven of the wizards out at once when something had distracted him: Sehun had suddenly fell from the crowd, his eyes screwed shut, his mouth dripping with ropes of a shiny dark liquid. A guard stepped towards him, his wand raised above his head, his mouth hanging open with victorious laughter. Minseok was right next to him, trying to push him off, but to Chanyeol it didn’t matter.  
Sehun was on the ground.  
Sehun was hurt.  
He bounded down the last few benches faster than he could muster, nearly tripping on the slippery wood. His legs were trundling so fast that his sight had gone fuzzy and he found he could only consciously see Sehun’s pained figure, his eyes shut and his mouth streaming. He stopped on the last bench and rose his wand, chest mounting with hate, and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”  
Kill.  
Killing had been the only thing on his mind.  
A green jet of light shot from his wand, exploding in the air with intense force; he watched its descent as it swam into the crowd, curving directly for Chanyeol’s target. It collided against the cheekbones of a handsome pale face, one with a now mingled expression of purpose and surprise, and Chanyeol saw the bearer of the face fall—it looked like it took forever for him to do so—and when he crashed against the ground there was a loud, terrible cry of strangled horror.  
At first, it meant nothing.  
It was probably the anguished scream of the guard who’d been too late to realize who had messed with…  
And yet he was still fighting.  
He blinked.  
The guard aiming at Sehun was still standing there, now rounding on Kyungsoo who was hurriedly pushing through the throng. Kyungsoo hadn’t drawn his wand and neither had the comrade who was tailing behind him, Kris. Immense worry was locked on their faces and the matter at hand seemed to have been completely disregarded.  
At first he thought they were coming for Sehun and he nearly dropped the last bench just to reach them—to see if everything was alright.  
However, that was not the case.  
Sehun was standing and his mouth was locked in a tight wince. Kyungsoo and Kris were bowled over another figure—another person who had been hurt.  
Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.  
He tore from the benches and ripped across the floor, shoving and ramming through the crowd. He stood in between Kyungsoo, who had his head in his hands, and Kris whose gray face was sullen.  
He couldn’t have—  
There was no way he’d—  
“Minseok.”  
Minseok was lying on the ground, his whole left cheek blackened and worn, strings of blood painting his arms and neck. His eyes were closed in peaceful farewell, his wand still tucked firmly beneath his fingers.  
Chanyeol felt his breath leave his body. He couldn’t even open his mouth to speak—to justify himself. To clarify what he’d done.  
Sehun stood still beside him, his arms hanging taut at his sides, his mouth drawn in a firm line. Jongin was beside him, his eyes tinged with still droplets of tears, his lower lip tucked beneath his teeth.  
The sound of the four other Death Eaters fighting off the enemies filled Chanyeol’s ears, but it only felt like useless background music.  
Minseok was dead.  
“We need to go,” Kyungsoo’s pant shook him from his gloomy daze. “There’s no use hiding the damage. Everybody, take hands. Blacknose! Greythorn! Eustace!”  
Three other Death Eaters ran over just as the five of them had joined hands.  
“Meyback’s dead, Soo,” Blacknose, a short wizard with freckles, grunted. “He’s back there.”  
“He’s not going to be happy,” was all Kyungsoo said before there was a sharp jerk and Chanyeol felt his feet leave the ground. Everything went black and he heard heavy whistling in his ear; Sehun’s arm jerked and fumbled away from him, but he tightened his grip as the tears dripping from his eyelashes flew through the wind and hit his face like acid rain; a force pressed him hard from all sides and just as he felt his head about to pop, it all stopped.  
He landed on his side against a ground of cold, hard stone. His head was pounding, his arm was bleeding and his face felt like it had been torn apart with a sharp scythe. Fresh air harshly greeted his lungs like a sea of sharp daggers. He drank it in greedily, but regretted it once pain began thumping through his body.  
He was lying with his knees drawn up to his stomach and his face pinned to the ground. He could barely hear the sound of water splashing and birds cooing over the heavy breathing of the others. Sehun had suddenly left his mind. He was more worried about the consequences he’d receive from the Dark Lord—death was probably one of them.  
A soft hand closed around his arm and tugged his stiff body. He did not move. He remained pinned to the ground, his eyes shut and his bloody face streaming with tears.  
Another tug.  
No response.  
One more tug.  
Still nothing.  
“Chanyeol,” Sehun’s hoarse voice swam in his ear. “Get up—come on.”  
He didn’t move; he shut his eyes tighter, trying to block out everything.  
“Chanyeol, come on—Greythorn’s dead, he drowned in the ocean. Get up.”  
Chanyeol bit his lip. He carefully opened his eyes, even though he’d been highly objective to doing so. The bark of a tall fir tree met his eyes. The branches were worn with streams of multi-colored birds all staring curiously at him.  
“Get up, everyone,” came Kris’s deep voice. “Come on—before he comes.”  
Sehun helped Chanyeol lift in a sitting position; his whole body was aching and his legs felt like they were about to pop free from his body.  
“I got Greythorn’s body,” Jongin came wading from a large sea of water ahead of them, a gray, scrawny wizard locked in his grasp. He set the soaked figure on the ground, staring at the patches of blood on his chest. “Great man, Greythorn.”  
“We need to hurry,” said Kyungsoo, who was rummaging through a small black bag. “He’ll want news and we won’t want to tell him what happened.”  
“What will we say?” muttered Blacknose, who was sitting upright on the ground, a towel wrapped around his shoulders.  
“We’ll say they defeated us. Plain and simple. It’ll be better than saying we accidentally killed one of our kind.”  
Chanyeol immediately sensed Sehun’s gaze, his face burning against the chilly wind. Anger was straining against his chest; cold, pure anger that needed to be released.  
He’d never felt more furious with himself. How could he have killed Minseok? It had merely been a test of precision and aim and he’d failed. He’d killed the wrong man. Maybe with someone else that would’ve easily been able to pass, but with the Dark Lord—who had streams and streams of plans coming in at unhealthy rates—that would never pass. He couldn’t even imagine it.  
“Chanyeol,” Sehun’s voice filled his ear again; it was in the tone of a calm, mellow whisper, one that did not at all match the mood he was feeling, “we all know you didn’t do it on purpose.”  
Something brewed inside of Chanyeol; something horrible grew and enlarged and swelled and threatened to pop and before he could even manage to try and cool it down and thin it back to tranquility, it released itself in an angry, harrowing shout.  
“Tell the Dark Lord that! I hated Minseok—everyone with a damn brain knew that! He even knew it! Everyone who saw me knew I couldn’t stand Minseok!”  
Five heads snapped towards him. Whether they had known he had killed Minseok or not, he did not know, but if they hadn’t, they had definitely now found out.  
“You didn’t kill him out of hate,” whispered Sehun, still talking in that calm, quiet whisper. “We know that.”  
“That’s not the point. He’s dead and that’s not the news the Dark Lord advised us to come back with. We’re all done for. Our futures, our glory, our money—it’s all done for.”  
“I don’t think we can say that yet,” said Kyungsoo, throwing a tarnished log aside. “We need to wait for him to arrive first and to evaluate all that’s happen.”  
Eustace, a lean blonde Death Eater with muscles, materialized from behind a set of dark trees, a furled newspaper in hand. “We’ve already made the Prophet.”  
He threw it down in the middle of them so they could see. He was indeed right. All twelve of their faces were printed in the middle of the paper; their wands were drawn and they were heatedly fighting back the guards.  
Chanyeol sank his head in his hands. The Dark Lord would see this and he would uncover everything. There was no way his life would be spared now, not when there was proof how it had all gone done.  
“It says it right here,” Jongin grunted, “that Minseok was killed by one of his own. If he reads this, he’ll definitely now.”  
“And that I do.”  
A gasp barely stifled the thick silence as everyone turned their heads. Standing before them all, draped in a tight black cloak, his pasty white head covered beneath a dark silk hood, was Lord Voldemort. A pair of thin, skeletal hands protruded from the thin cloth of his cloak and tucked beneath two scrawny fingers was the long, thin figure of the Elder Wand.  
Chanyeol felt his heart rise to his throat; he could feel the Dark Lord’s eyes gliding towards him, those thin slits shaded with malice and hate, his throat boiling with pure, unabridged anger. The air around them was suddenly thick with an unfamiliar, revolting scent—the smell of approaching death.  
“I see only five of you have returned, my pretties,” he spoke, hoarsely. “I see only five of you Apparated straight where I told you to.”  
“The others died along the way, Dark Lord,” Kyungsoo said, obediently. “They were killed.”  
“You did just as I said at the Ministry,” Voldemort’s voice was cool and scratchy and Chanyeol felt the hairs on his neck rising at the sound of it, “didn’t you?”  
“Of course, Dark Lord,” Kris spoke this time, his voice distant and unfamiliar. “We did.”  
Voldemort’s hand which was holding his wand rose slightly. “And you freed Minseok?”  
“Y-Yes, Dark Lord,” stammered Jongin, his throat tight with emotion. “We did, sir.”  
There was a small pause of silence as their ears grew thick with Voldemort’s heavy breathing before he suddenly swished his hand through the air. An invisible force sent them all tumbling to the ground on their sides, faces pinned to the ground. Chanyeol felt Sehun struggling weakly beside him.  
“Then tell me why, my pretties, is Minseok—” There was another slash of his wand and Chanyeol felt pain wedge into his back— “dead?”  
“M-M-Minseok’s not dead, sir,” Blacknose stuttered, his lips quivering. “W-We sought right to him, s-s-sir.”  
Voldemort swung his arm through the air again and Blacknose howled with pain. Chanyeol heard the sound of cloth tearing and then Blacknose’s breathing suddenly fell silent behind him.  
“Don’t lie to me!” Voldemort’s cold voice rang out loud and clear in a horrific, disdain tone they hadn’t heard in so long. “Who did it? Who killed him? I want to know! I want to see the life leave their eyes!”  
Voldemort sliced his hand through the air once more and pain suddenly struck Chanyeol in a way he’d never felt before; his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body helplessly quivered and quaked against the ground; strong guttural noises left his mouth as he trembled and shuddered, the poisonous, oppressing force of death building up his throat; he choked and spluttered, feeling his eyes rolling all the way back to his skull as blackness obscured his vision; his arms painfully pinned to his spine and his legs locked together; his mouth fell open and his body felt like it was about to split open like the halves of a casket breaking apart.  
“It was me!”  
Silence.  
It all stopped.  
He was lying on the ground, panting and wheezing, his limbs aching and his head threatening to burst open. It was over.  
“No, it was not,” Voldemort’s voice reached his ears once more. “It was not you, Sehun. It was him. He killed Minseok.”  
He shuddered as the tip of Voldemort’s wand suddenly pressed into the side of his neck. “And now I will kill you.”

* * *

A tattered newspaper sat on the edge of a table in the Leaky Cauldron. A scrawny witch with soiled skin and a bruised, red eye leaned over to scan the headline. Leaning tenderly on her walking stick, she read:  
_THE MINISTRY FINISHES ACTS OF AVENGE!_  
_“On the morning of 29th September 2011, in a disciplinary hearing conducted in the presence by the Minister of Magic himself, Jong Yong-Suk, Kim Jongin, Do Kyungsoo, Wu Yi Fan, Park Chanyeol and Oh Sehun, along with one foreigner, a Drias Eustace, were fired from their jobs in the Ministry and issued to four and a half years in Azkaban each. Yong-Suk denied interviews to speak further about the situation, but did say this._  
_‘I am proud that the wizard community has gathered together to honor our fallen and indict our foes with reason and pride. South Korea’s Ministry will become stronger and more independent here on out with the help and alliance of our fellow citizens.’_  
_Many departments in the Ministry have closed off occupational opportunities out of fear and although the Minister is not pleased about this, he says it is expected and apparently for the best as ‘the whole world is still in shock over the events taken place at the Ministry on the 19th’ and that he advises “strict caution” to all wizards and families who roam the city._  
_‘We, in collaboration with many other ministries across the world, are working hard to bring this Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, down and are aware that his troop of ‘Death Eaters’ hold many Korean citizens. We hold no prejudice against foreigners and are working to also take out our Korean Death Eaters without a hint of sympathy.’_  
_The Minister left the Ministry with confidence and pride in the situation and we hope he retains that throughout this dark and immortal war.”_


End file.
